Farewell to Warsaw and Status in Quo
by i.paint.the.sky
Summary: Chiaki plays Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 1.


**Farewell to Warsaw and Status in Quo**

Shinichi finds himself sitting in front of the piano almost by accident. He'd been walking to the kitchen when he spotted Nodame's score left teetering on the edge of the bench. With a sigh, he'd leaned over to pick it up, more out of habit than design. It wasn't until he'd gone to put it back on the shelf that he even looked to see what piece it was.

Chopin's _Piano Concerto No. 1._

He can still remember the concert. The music had been, like her, both beautifully flawed and painfully perfect. The piece she had played was one he had never attempted, even in those dismal piano division years.

He knows he can never play her Chopin, but he maybe he can find one of his own.

First movement, a_llegro maestoso_. He closes his eyes, conducting the orchestra in his mind as it introduces the themes. Closer and closer now and his fingers are beginning to itch, out of practice and more than ready to be put to use. He reaches out and lays them gently on the keys, caressing ivory, and takes one last breath before beginning to play the first theme himself.

It is a magnificent piece, a grand showcase for the piano, as Chopin's work always was. The magnificent sound sweeping out and over the -

No, wait, that note is wrong. Shinichi stops and goes back several bars, giving it another attempt. This time, a different note is off. Another try and it is the timing that fails him. He stares at the score and then down as his fingers, which suddenly felt clumsy and unwieldy. He closes his eyes and remembers again how it sounded, how magnificent this piece was, when _she_ played it.

He opens his eyes suddenly, staring out at nothing for a long moment before attacking the piece, his pace relentless and determined and still _wrong_. One more time, slower and sedate and more him but still the result is the same.

He can't play it. As he is now, it is beyond his grasp, unless of course he was to practice at it like he hadn't needed to for many years. And even then, it wasn't certain. And yet ... and yet ...

Nodame had played it. Yes, she had changed tempos and jumped around the piece, as was her way, but everything had still been somehow under control, between her and _Stresemann_. She had not only made it through this piece unscathed but had turned it into a wonder that was perhaps beyond what even Chopin had ever dreamed.

Sometime, somewhere, somehow she had surpassed him.

He leans back on the bench, closing his eyes and letting that thought really sink in. How did she keep doing this, sneaking up on him like that? How could she always make progress in such leaps and bounds, instead of the steady pace he was so used to? How had she managed to master techniques that he couldn't, while breaking every rule in the book?

There was really only one answer to all that: she was _Nodame. _That's just what she did.

As if on cue, the door opens and she bounces in, swinging her bag along beside her. He smiles at the sight of her openly now; no point in hiding things when there wasn't anyone left to fool. She scans the room and finds him quickly and then she is smiling back, the expression lighting up her face in ways he has no words for, could only try to express through music.

"Hello, Chiaki-senpai!" she exclaims, then tilts her head to the side. "Why are you sitting at the piano? Are you going to play something?"

Shinichi jumps off the bench as if it was on fire, knocking the piano as he did so and causing the music to come tumbling down. "No, nothing, I was just tired, that's all," he tells her. She frowns since even she could tell that this was a lie. He smiles again, his cheeks becoming tight with the effort, before bending down and quickly picking up the score, holding it against his chest.

Nodame sighs and shakes her head before walking over to the couch, which was her way of letting him know that he is being an idiot,. Which he is. But even knowing that, he still isn't quite ready to tell her about his discovery just yet. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after.

Or maybe in ten years, after she'd long ago discovered it for herself. That sounds like a good and unhealthy plan. Perfect.

"Senpai?"

He turns to look at her, surprised that she isn't already wrapped up in the cultural phenomenon that is _Puri __Gorota_. "Yes?"

"What are you making me for dinner?"

Shinichi laughs. "Give me a moment, I'll go get something ready," he tells her before finally making it over to the kitchen.

For as much that had changed between them and would change between them, there were some things that always stayed the same. And as he begins to pull out the ingredients he needs, he can hear Nodame humming and quickly recognizes the tune.

Chopin's _Piano Concerto No. 1._


End file.
